Wishful Thinking
by prhood
Summary: Darcy makes an unusual acquaintance at the assembly.


A/N: Just a little bit of nonsense that popped into my head a few months ago.

 **Wishful Thinking**

"I would suggest, sir, that you might prefer to be cautious about what you wish for."

Darcy spun around to determine who, of this miserable collection of society, had the temerity to approach him to offer advice. And such advice! He looked down his nose at the small gentleman who now stood looking up at him with barely suppressed amusement.

"And who," Darcy asked, inspecting the gentleman as though he was a loathsome creature, "are you to tender advice, unsolicited and unwanted?"

"That is quite unimportant, I assure you, Mr. Darcy. It is enough that I know you and that I overheard your wish."

Darcy glared at the man. Seeing no point to the conversation, his motion to turn away from him was abruptly halted by the man's next words.

"I would not do that, you know. It is best to learn the terms and conditions of a wish before it is granted."

Darcy now goggled at the man and then looked around to see if there were people nearby, the man's keepers perhaps, who might deal with such an oddity.

"I am not mad, Mr. Darcy. I am simply the Random Granter of Wishes." The little man stood more proudly and chuckled, "It is not, of course, an official title but I thought it an excellent use of my initials. Allow me to properly introduce myself. Rupert Gerald Wishingwell, at your service."

Darcy drew himself up and looked down at Mr. Wishingwell – not a difficult feat as he stood at least two heads taller.

"If you will excuse me, sir, I believe this conversation to be at an end."

Wishingwell shook his head, "No! No! You should not leave before learning of the rules and conditions that apply to your wish."

"What is this nonsense?"

"Did you not wish Mr. Bingley to behave in a more serious, reserved manner?"

Darcy nodded, although he did not recollect having spoken the words out loud, and said as much.

"Mayhap you did not, Mr. Darcy, but you cannot deny you thought them - and not for the first time."

Darcy wondered if it was he that was going mad.

"Do not fear, Mr. Darcy, you are not mad, nor are you imagining this whole business. Now, sir, are you prepared to learn the conditions of your wish?"

Darcy nodded weakly, wondering why he was listening to such madness. Granting wishes indeed. Madness!

"Again, I must say, No, Mr. Darcy. Perhaps I should explain about wishes. You realize, of course, that they are granted randomly. Not every wish is granted else where would we be? That would be the true course of madness, I assure you." Mr. Wishingwell shuddered at the thought.

"Now," he continued, "the first thing you must understand is that life – nature, if you will – operates in a balance between good and bad. Granting a wish unconditionally would upset that balance one way or the other. We – the granters of wishes – cannot allow that to happen. Surely you can see that."

Darcy did not know whether to agree or disagree. To be listening and contributing to this conversation was beyond all sensibility. Mr. Wishingwell took his silence as agreement and continued.

"Well, of course! Suppose we – for there are many of us working and we rarely see each other – why I have not encountered one of my colleagues in more than a century now – and should we all simultaneously grant a bad wish, why the world would slide into something too dreadful to contemplate. The disgusting would Trump everything."

Darcy's lips quirked, "and, I suppose, if you inadvertently granted too many good wishes, we would enjoy nauseating goodness."

"Exactly!" Cried Mr. Wishingwell. "Can you imagine anything more boring for everyone to be like. . .like Mr. Bingley!"

Darcy shook his head, bemused that he was standing here listening to such nonsense. Mr. Wishingwell's glance suggested that he was quite aware of Darcy's thoughts and the latter shifted uneasily.

"Now," said Mr. Wishingwell, "the first thing that you must understand is that to grant your wish, we must extract from somewhere that reserve which you wish to endow Mr. Bingley. As well, we will, when the exchange is effected, have surplus ebullience floating around, so to speak, which must be fixed in someone. As it is your wish, you must be part of the exchange. There must be a balance, you see. In this case, as we are going to make Mr. Bingley more reserved, we must make someone else, namely you, less so."

Mr. Wishingwell smiled at Darcy who suddenly became quite uncomfortable. "You surely do not intend to change me as well?"

"We have no choice, Mr. Darcy. Had your wish been for yourself, had you, for instance, wished to be more amiable in nature, I could have chosen someone whose character would be substantially improved by an increase in reserve – Miss Lydia Bennet, as an example. However, you wished to change Mr. Bingley's behaviour and thus I am required, by the Rules of Granting Wishes – I do hope you appreciate that little play on words - to create the balancing change in you alone."

Darcy laughed. He could not believe he had listened to such nonsense and began to turn away once more. He had actually taken a step or two when Mr. Wishingwell spoke once more.

"You should understand, Mr. Darcy, that. . ."

Darcy walked more quickly and could not hear the remainder of the sentence.

Mr. Wishingwell smiled. This was not the first time someone had left before learning all the rules of wishes. Mr. Darcy had stayed longer than many. He had failed to learn that the power of the wish was not infinite. Each use would last no more than a half day and each use would lessen the effect until the wish had expired. There was one more rule which he might have preferred to know.

"I must," he murmured, "return in, say, a month's time to see the result." He turned and walked through the wall. Mrs. Stoodley, who had been freely imbibing on the assembly's refreshments which had been judiciously assisted and re-enforced by a contribution from Mr. Taylor, had been glancing in his direction at the time. She looked at the wall, looked at her glass and was about to return it to the table when the need for further assistance became essential. She downed the drink in a single gulp and headed back to the refreshment table.

Mr. Darcy gradually slowed his pace and looked about the room. What a marvellous opportunity, he thought. So many young ladies lacking partners, and here I stand, lacking one as well. I can please both myself and a young lady by asking her to dance. He looked around, and espied a pretty young woman, standing with another and laughing quietly. Such happiness attracted him and he recognized her as the young lady that Bingley had offered to introduce to him. Darcy thought he had been singularly unkind to have denied his friend that pleasure but the matter could be remedied immediately. He saw Bingley leading his partner from the dance which had just ended. Bingley, for some unaccountable reason, looked excessively displeased. He hurried to Bingley's side.

"Bingley!" He cried, "I must have you make an introduction for me."

Bingley looked anything but happy at the prospect; however, upon ascertaining the young lady to whom an introduction was required, approached Miss Jane Bennet, who he had already danced with and understood to be the young lady's sister, to take the necessary action. Miss Bennet was amenable to the office and very quickly Darcy had invited Miss Elizabeth Bennet, for that was the young lady's name, to dance the next set. Her acceptance had been noticeably reluctant and Darcy could only suppose, accurately, that it was due to his hasty rejection of an earlier introduction. She must have overheard him speaking to Bingley; however, she did accept, perhaps realizing the earnestness of his request, and Darcy began at once to make amends for his behaviour.

"I do believe, Miss Elizabeth," he said as he led her into the dance, "that you overheard something that should never have been said. I hope you will overlook, nay, forgive my earlier curmudgeonly behaviour. I do not know how I could have acted in such an ungentlemanly manner to such a charming young lady."

"I believe, sir, you are going it a trifle too fine. The application for my hand for this dance is sufficient apology."

"Then I thank you, Miss Elizabeth, for your charity in accepting it. I believe you found some amusement – perfectly justifiable, I assure you – in my incivility. "

"Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can."

"Excellent. I must confess that I tend to look upon society's antics with a much less tolerant eye, although tonight, for some reason, they do not bother me as much as usual."

"Then I am pleased to hear it, Mr. Darcy, for I confess that my initial impression of you was that you saw very little that pleased you here in our small assembly."

Darcy was thoughtful, trying to recall his thoughts when he first entered the room. He had been uncomfortable, to be sure, and the boisterous crowd, the rumours of his wealth and status which had circulated within minutes of his entrance, had been extremely vexing. That the dress and manners of those present had not satisfied his exacting, fastidious standards had compounded his discomfort, for he had instantly understood that he would not meet anyone with whom he might wish to further an acquaintance. It had put him in a ferocious mood. And yet, here he was dancing with a very pleasant young lady, possessed of an extraordinarily attractive and intelligent pair of eyes. He wondered if that appearance of intelligence really existed. He began with his favoured topic and one he was rarely able to enjoy with a lady, young or otherwise, and never in a ball room.

"Miss Elizabeth, I realize that a dance is probably not the best place to discuss a book, but I have recently finished reading a most enjoyable novel and wondered if you might have done so as well." Darcy identified the book and, as it happened, Miss Elizabeth had read it some months previous, thoroughly enjoyed it as well and was quite prepared to not only discuss the story but also to dispute his interpretation in a most intelligent manner. So, wrapped in their conversation were they that the ending of the dance caught them both by surprise.

Darcy offered her his arm and led her back towards the young woman with whom she had last been talking. Despite a desire to continue the discussion, he understood his duty and duly asked Miss Lucas for the next set. Once she had mastered her surprise, she accepted and Darcy remained with them conversing amiably until the music sounded the start of the dance.

He had been dancing for some time with Miss Lucas and, if the main topic of conversation had been one Miss Elizabeth Bennet, his partner did not appear to be unhappy to speak fondly of her. Towards the end of their second dance, Darcy espied Bingley standing against a wall looking as though he could barely tolerate the company around him.

After he returned Miss Lucas to her father, who seemed extraordinarily pleased at Darcy's condescension in asking his daughter to dance, he noticed Miss Bennet being escorted off the floor, approached her at once to dance the next set and being successful in that endeavour, moved to join his friend. Bingley saw him approaching and shook his head in bemusement.

"Darcy," said he, "the oddest thing has happened. I had just finished dancing with Miss Goulding when all desire to dance departed me. Nothing I could see pleased me. The noise, the gossip was all most unpleasant and I wondered why I had wanted so much to come here tonight. I found myself adopting your manner and standing alone and discouraging anyone's company. And then, to see you dancing with Miss Elizabeth was beyond my comprehension. My sisters were most displeased and I could not understand how someone who was only tolerable a short while before could alter so suddenly as to make you dance with her. And now I wonder at my own behaviour, for I want nothing more than to return to Netherfield."

"You surely are not serious, Bingley?" Cried Darcy, "Why it would be the greatest slight towards your neighbours should you leave before the assembly is done. You must dance and there certainly more than enough attractive young ladies in want of a partner. Come, I must have you dance. I have danced with Miss Elizabeth Bennet and found her a most agreeable partner. I shall, I hope, be able to dance with her again before I depart." Darcy looked up. The musicians were readying for the next set.

"I must be away, for I am to partner Miss Bennet for the next. Come, Miss Elizabeth is sitting just over there. I must have you dance with her."

"I shall not. I shall dance with my sisters. That will satisfy my obligations for the night."

Darcy shook his head and walked briskly towards Miss Bennet. Poor Bingley, he thought, with so much beauty and intelligence before him, he chooses to stand and glower.

His dance with Miss Bennet was pleasurable; however, by the time the first dance had concluded he was sure that, despite her beauty and obvious kindly nature, she held little appeal for him. Her sister, on the other hand, drew him irresistibly. Her wit and intelligence were the perfect complement to her beauty and lively manners. Darcy had no time to consider that matter for the musician's were readying to begin the last dance and he had espied Miss Elizabeth Bennet and she appeared to be without a partner. It was a simple matter to approach her and seek her hand for another dance. It was given, although her surprise was poorly hidden, and as he led her into the line, she murmured, "I had thought you to avoid dancing further, Mr. Darcy. You appeared to have been contemplating matters of a weighty nature."

"I was indeed but now I am resolved to enjoy a dance with you. Perhaps, as our discussion was interrupted by the end of our previous dance, we might attempt to finish it in this one."

It was with great satisfaction that his good opinion of Miss Elizabeth Bennet was confirmed as they danced and debated. As the evening drew to a close, he resolved to know her better.

The evening altogether passed off pleasantly for the Bennet family. Mrs. Bennet had seen her eldest daughter much admired by the Netherfield party. Mr. Bingley had danced with her, as had Mr. Darcy, and she had been distinguished by his sisters. Jane was as much gratified by this as her mother could be, though in a quieter way. Of more significance had been the fact that Mr. Darcy had danced four dances with Elizabeth. Neither Mrs. Bennet nor Elizabeth quite knew how to interpret such a preference. Mrs. Bennet confusion arose over an inability to comprehend that any gentleman would prefer Elizabeth to Jane; however, if the man had such a preference, she would certainly not gainsay him, for as she exclaimed repeatedly, "He has ten thousand a year! 'Tis as good as a lord!" Mr. Bingley's odd behaviour was another puzzle, for he had been eager to dance when he arrived but as the evening progressed he became increasing withdrawn and almost disagreeable. It was extremely vexing and Mrs. Bennet could only suppose that he had taken ill.

For her part, Elizabeth was confused by the inconsistency of Darcy's behaviour. To have walked around proud and disdainful for half the evening, insult her as not being handsome enough to tempt him to dance and then, only a few minutes later, seek her out for an introduction, apologize handsomely for the insult and then dance two sets with her. It was incomprehensible.

Darcy pleasure with the evening finally spilled out as the Netherfield party was returning in their carriage. Bingley was quiet and sombre, his sisters unhappy at the quality of the society they had been forced to endure, and Hurst – Bingley's brother-in-law – had fallen asleep within seconds of entering the carriage. Darcy, however, could find no fault with the evening's entertainment and, in his enthusiasm, declared, "I believe, Bingley, that to mark your entrance into the local society, you should consider giving a ball. You are one of the principal landowners and it would be an excellent means of establishing your presence here."

There was a prolonged silence as the other occupants of the carriage gaped at him in varying degrees of astonishment, confusion, and speechlessness. In particular, Bingley's sisters did not know how to respond, for it was not within their understanding to ever disagree with Darcy on a matter that he considered important. That he, of all people, would promote a ball was incomprehensible, for it was, until tonight, an activity he rarely engaged in, even more rarely enjoyed and never encouraged. Their confusion rendered them silent. Their brother was silenced by his confusion over his own behaviour as well as that of his friend. The part of him that delighted in dancing and socializing was struggling against another portion of his character that found such activities uncomfortable. It was a close thing but he managed to utter the fateful words, "I suppose it could be done, once we are on more familiar terms with the local families."

"Excellent!" replied Darcy. Bingley's sisters simply gazed at them both, no coherent thought could be brought forward and to disagree with Mr. Darcy on such a matter - impossible. Mr. Hurst snored on.

Later, in his room, Darcy had the solitude to consider his own actions. He could not believe that he had so easily – nay, willingly – sought out a dance partner. It had been his policy to avoid dancing with any lady with whom he was not well acquainted and, even then, only those with whom it would not be a punishment to spend a half hour in their company. He had, of course, always done his duty, when a guest, to ask his hostess to dance and, if she had a daughter, he would do his duty with her as well. He rarely got much pleasure from either event. And he never asked a young lady to dance twice, for, should he be so unwise, he had no doubt that her father would be approaching him the next day with a marriage settlement in his hand. Darcy knew he was exaggerating his situation but only slightly. The expectations and gossip raised following even one dance not required by protocol had been such that he had eventually vowed to avoid dancing whenever possible. Until tonight. Not only had he danced, as required, with his hostess and her sister but he asked several other young ladies to dance as well. It was unaccountable unless . . . he remembered his conversation with Mr. Wishingwell. Dear G_d! Had the man been serious? Was he, every time he watched Bingley exhibit his genial manners and enjoyment of society, to be changed into another Bingley? No! He remembered now. It was the wish that Bingley not express himself so freely that was at issue. Unfortunately, much as he admired his friend's easy manners, he frequently wished him to display more reserve. He must remember to be cautious in expressing such a desire in the future.

When he woke the next morning it was to discover that the feeling of ebullience which had so overpowered him the night before had diminished to a more tolerable level of amiability. He could endure Miss Bingley's fawning praises of himself and condescending criticisms of local society with an equanimity he had not hitherto experienced. He did wish that his friend would take control of his sister, for her attitude did not please and disturbed the satisfaction he felt from the previous evening's activities. Bingley, he noticed, was much quieter than his wont and could be won to very little conversation. However, as the day progressed, he appeared to regain his usual happy spirits while Darcy felt his own slipping gradually away. Without his being aware of it, the power of his wish had largely dissipated by that evening.

Netherfield Park

November 26, 18_

"I had not thought to find an opportunity to speak with you tonight, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy turned abruptly to face a small gentleman he had never expected to see again. He had recognized the voice, of course. He paled, for he had been that very moment wishing he could have all of Elizabeth's dances. Surely, Mr. Wishingwell would not grant such a wish. He hardly knew whether to be pleased or dismayed when the gentleman replied.

"You need not fear, sir. Such a wish, while it certainly could be granted, does not require my interference. You may have as many of Miss Elizabeth Bennet's dances as she has to give. All you need do is ask."

Darcy relaxed. He had already danced the first set with Elizabeth, had secured the supper set and, if things proceeded as he wi . . . hoped - he told himself firmly, hoped – they would dance the last as well. He would not deny that his concerns over the impropriety of some members of her family had not been an issue, but when he considered his own relations, it was only their wealth and rank that allowed their behaviours to be overlooked. Elizabeth's mother, for instance, was hardly more improper than his own aunt, Lady Catherine.

"You are not unhappy with being granted your wish, sir?"

Mr. Wishingwell gazed around the room. Mr. Bingley, the object of Mr. Darcy's first wish, appeared much as he ever was, dancing with cheerful enthusiasm with a young lady of particular beauty.

"Mr. Bingley seems unaffected by your actions."

"I have not thought it necessary to make him the subject again."

Mr. Wishingwell nodded pleasantly. "Have you exercised it on anyone else?"

Darcy smirked. "Pray consider Miss Lydia Bennet's behaviour."

He pointed casually in her direction and Mr. Wishingwell's eyebrows rose dramatically. "Dare I ask how such an effect came to be?"

"Purely by accident, I assure you. I found her unruly, boisterous behaviour quite annoying at a party and, without thinking, wished her to be more restrained. Much as I did with Bingley. The effect was remarkable. I repeated the wish every occasion we were in company together. She is now as you see, quite decorous. Am I to understand the wish becomes permanent?"

Mr. Wishingwell drew himself up proudly. "Indeed, every wish – you really should have remained long enough to learn the rules that bind a wish – well, as I was saying, every time the wish is used, its power fades after a half day; however, more importantly, it does not die altogether and a small portion, perhaps no greater than one part in ten, is left behind. As you have changed Miss Lydia, so have you altered yourself. Wonderful, is it not?"

He gazed about the room with a complacent eye. "Yes, I am most gratified and now, if I recollect properly, you have a dance and a proposal to make. Hmmm?"

Mr. Wishingwell turned and walked away, heading for the nearest wall. Darcy called out as he disappeared from view, "I do not suppose we shall meet again?"

Mr. Wishingwell's head popped back into sight. "I think all your wishes are in your own hands, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy regarded the wall. "I do wish he wouldn't pop in and out like a cheap candle." He grumbled.

The response was unexpected, for the gentleman could not be seen at all. "Definitely not a cheap candle, Mr. Darcy. Priceless, I might call it."

~ Finis ~


End file.
